


watch the world go by (and all with you)

by beautlilies



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, enjoy the soft jalice, happy holidays, secret santa time everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautlilies/pseuds/beautlilies
Summary: Do not seek absolution in tired eyes devoid of any love.- Harshit Mishra
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Jalice Secret Santa 2020





	watch the world go by (and all with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! My gift is to @citrus-and-rain on tumblr and I hope they love it!

_Do not seek absolution in tired eyes devoid of any love._

\- **Harshit Mishra**

Absolution in her eyes. A pardon in her smile. Simple promises of acquittal, freedom from his crimes. A chance at redemption, an opportunity to cleanse himself of every sin and to try and stitch back his humanity with careful precision. He wishes to find it in him to deny her, to be strong enough to remove himself from her life before the damage is done and her soul is tainted and forever scarred from being in his presence. But he isn’t, and he’s not sure he truly wishes those things. Not when her slip of a hand ever so gently smooths over a myriad of scars and the sound of his name on her pretty red lips has him sure that he has a chance - a chance at this, a chance to rectify his wrongs, to prove himself worthy of this darling slip of a girl with yellow eyes and short hair that refuses to comply with her efforts to smooth it down, a name as charming as her gift and as patient as her own when he looks at her outstretched hand with the remaining effects of trauma and disbelief. 

He steps with her. A soft ballad of pitfalls and heroics. A waltz that she leads, as soft and as lovely as her name - Alice, and he says it with the tenderness and delicacy it deserves, because it’s beautiful and perfect and so very her that Jasper wants to commit it to each and every fiber of his being, each nerve ending and the most miniscule drop of venom, always afraid that if he can never be in her presence again, never hear the way her name drips from his lips and ricochet off the walls of the third department store that evening, he will at least have it in his memory for the rest of his eternal life - and he lets her lead with a grateful smile and an eagerness to learn, to prove his worth. 

His eyes turn bright gold. A beautiful brilliance that has her spending the daylight inspecting each little fleck of honey brown, committing the sight of his devotion and his resilience to each part of her memory. A fail safe for each fail safe. He likes that he has managed to capture his attention, likes knowing that he has managed to hold a place in her heart for decades before they ever encountered. Loves knowing that even with two brothers and a sister, a mother and a father to steal her attention and to thrive in the nuance of her ideas, the delicacy to her voice and the provocative nature of her questions, she still thinks of him. Brings him small treasures from each outing. An unconscious string that keeps them together, a wavelength of turning the most mundane thoughts into something distinctly important about the other - a freckle, a memory from a human life of sunshine and mud, a loose question on how Jasper would take to a new color scheme, Alice to a new dress of soft lilac and frill flowers. It’s a reminder that he’s his own worst enemy and that Alice will always be there, laughing at his jokes and treasuring each dress, each jewel, giving him the absolution he has always wanted.

It’s hard for him to picture a life without her. It’s harder for him to have to come so close to that reality, to watch his past and his future try and politely negotiate his presence as if he is simply a trading card, an object to throw away once its value is lost and he is nothing more than a nuisance. But his darling Alice is insistent and ferocious, dangerous in her love for him, adamant that the choice is Jasper’s and no one else's - herself included, because as much as she loves him and as long as she’s waited for him, she’s always going to give him the freedom to make his own decisions and find his own way in life, with or without her. And he knows how much it hurts, how she aches and wants to sob with an intensity that is simply impossible to achieve - even for mortals - and it makes him fall more in love with her.

And she tries so hard to keep her relief from him. Tries so hard to hide her worry that he would truly leave her willingly, because even though she will let him walk away from her as easily as if they were simple acquaintances and not two halves of the same soul, forever entwined since that moment in that shitty diner, it would have killed her. It would have left a shell of who she is, forever tortured and forever wondering why she was not enough, if she had said or did anything he was too afraid to voice, instead choosing to let it fester and grow until Jasper felt like the only way out was to leave this lavish house in Alberta. But he feels it anyway, feels her anxiety slip away in the way she clings to his body when they’re finally alone, feels this echo of emptiness when she strokes the nape of his neck as she holds him close to her chest and Jasper is reminded all over again that she too has her own past of heartache - even if she doesn’t remember it - and that he is all she wants, all she will ever need. And Jasper can’t help but think that he loves her more than anyone has ever loved another, that he wants nothing more than to spend an eternal life reminding her of it.

And of course she knows. Of course she can see his resolution in the square of his shoulders, can see it in the gifted area of her mind when he leans above her once more and smothers her in his love, in the press of his lips on her skin. She’s laughing and squirming under his fingers, and he knows that she’s seen his decision to propose, but she’s willing to along with the show for as long as he’d like. Willing to pretend she won’t see what ring he thinks of, willing to pretend that she hasn’t seen the thousands of scenarios running through his mind about what he’ll say, how he’ll do it.

He doesn’t mind. 

She’s his absolution. He just might be hers.


End file.
